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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902273">Don't let me fall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mofo_marie/pseuds/mofo_marie'>mofo_marie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Car Accidents, Fluff, Happy Ending, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Wheelchairs, Zayn in wheelchair, mentions of depression</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:28:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mofo_marie/pseuds/mofo_marie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Second. One second can change your life. One second can kill you. One second can mean that the most famous boyband of recent times has a hard time when one of its members has a serious accident.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Niall Horan/Zayn Malik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Darkness. It surrounds me, sticks to me. Like a cocoon; tight, firm, everywhere. It is omnipresent, all-encompassing; calming and terrifying at the same time. I feel like I'm drifting in the night sky without stars and moon. I am alone and if it weren't for this one fact, I wouldn't mind remaining like that. I feel fine without a crowd of screaming teens, without shafts of light directed at myself and without all that pressure.</p><p>   Free. At last, just like that, just free.</p><p>   Silence. It surrounds me, fills every second, minute, hour. It is as pervasive and all-encompassing as darkness. Calming and terrifying. But soothing to my ears. And if only I wasn't alone, I could go on like this forever.</p><p>   <em>Beep</em>.</p><p>   Where did this noise come from?</p><p>   <em>Beep</em>.</p><p>   Strangely familiar and unremarkable in any way.</p><p>   <em>Beep</em>.</p><p>   Rhythmic. Constant. Uninterrupted.</p><p>   <em>Beep</em>.</p><p>   It pushes through the silence suddenly and decidedly.</p><p>   <em>Beep</em>.</p><p>   Is it a beam of light? Breaks through the dark.</p><p>   And it's not dark anymore. And there is no silence anymore.</p><p>   And I open my eyes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Wet road. The blurry green of the trees. The narrow beam of the headlamps. A song from the radio interrupted by the screech of tires. Harry's scream.</em>
</p><p>           Was I screaming?</p><p>
  <em>No, my voice stuck in my throat. A jerk of the car. A sudden, penetrating headache. Darkness. Harry's hoarse breath. "Don't move, don't move Zayn." His desperate voice and the struggle with the stripes. "Don't move, they'll be here soon."</em>
</p><p>           Have I been watching what is happening around me?</p><p>
  <em>           No, I couldn't. I couldn't open my eyes, I was too scared. I heard Harry wheezing, then the ambulance signal. People's voices flowing together. Sheet metal scraping when a car was cut open. And I felt the pain - so overwhelming that I couldn't bear it.</em>
</p><p>My eyelids are heavy, unimaginably heavy. As if I haven't opened my eyes for several months. I struggle to lift them again, staring at the bright ceiling that almost overwhelms me. Everything seems blurry and it takes a while for me to see the details of the room I'm in.</p><p>           The lamp hanging from the ceiling shines brightly. Fresh and clean bedding with which I am covered still smells of chemicals. Everything has this nasty scent. I blink, dazed, and almost want to return to the silence and darkness again.</p><p>I twist my head slightly, feeling my muscles tense painfully with this gentle movement. I scowl as my gaze shifts to the chair next to the bed, the back of which is draped with a gray sweater that I recognize as Niall's.</p><p>           I breathe slowly but even this causes me a lot of pain. I blink a few times, brushing back tears when I spot a folded newspaper on the sheets. It is wrinkled, as if someone has read it many times, and a bit wet. I reach for it carefully, wincing at the unpleasant sensation and seeing a white bandage wrapped around my palm.</p><p>The bold headline almost screams: THE MEMBERS OF A FAMOUS BOYSBAND HAD AN ACCIDENT! And while trying to read the article, I can't concentrate properly. The black letters blur and stick together, and I can't read anything but a few words out of context.</p><p>           I lick my dry lips nervously and lift my head as I hear footsteps in the hallway. Moments later, the white painted door opens and Niall stands in it. His eyes are puffy and red, and there are dirty marks of dried tears on his pale cheeks. He holds a paper cup in his hand, which he drops when his blue eyes meet mine.</p><p>"Zayneh ..." he whispers incredulously and I want to smile but I can't.</p><p>           Niall runs over to me, leaving traces of coffee behind him. He runs up and falls to his knees, trembling fingers running over my cheeks, dry lips and temples. His jerky, cool breath blows pleasantly over my face, and his eyes stare at me in relief.</p><p>I want to speak, I really do but the tongue seems too big for my mouth. It's too dry, and I have a hard time opening my mouth to grunt something that is completely incomprehensible even to myself. Niall bites his lip in concern and leaps to his feet, running out into the hallway.</p><p>           When he leaves, I want to move but the pain paralyzes me. I close my eyes, breathing shallowly, but even this makes me suffer. I raise my arms, ignoring the sore muscles, and slowly slide them over my hospital gown, feeling something rough under it, wrapping around my torso.</p><p>I don't have time to undo the little buttons to see what's under the cloth, because a doctor enters the room. A tall, erect man in a white coat, with short stubble and gray hair, with glasses on a slightly crooked nose. Niall slides in behind him; his eyes sparkle and the blushes return to his pale face. He smiles at me as the doctor glances at the papers he has brought with him; he passes the doctor and sits down on the chair, taking my hand carefully.</p><p> "We're glad you're awake, Mr. Malik" the doctor says, running his fingers through his gray hair.</p><p>           He has large dark circles under his eyes and looks very tired, and his voice is low and hoarse.</p><p>“My name is Ashton Lenox, I am your doctor. You're at St. Margaret's Hospital. Do you know why?”</p><p>          I move restlessly, glancing at Niall, who is watching me with concern, squeezing my hand a little tighter. I look away at the impatient grunt of the doctor and a question runs through my mind what kind of moron this man thinks I am. After all, I didn't go here on vacation.</p><p>“I had ... I had an accident.”</p><p>          I wince at the sound of my own voice. It sounds faint and scratchy and completely foreign. The doctor nods and sets the paperwork at the foot of my bed as he comes closer.</p><p> "Please step back, Mr. Horan," he murmurs. “Not only did you sit here all this time and...”</p><p>           Niall rolls his eyes but obediently gets up from his chair and backs away, watching the doctor, still grumbling, bend over me, shining a small flashlight into my eyes. I blink a few times at this sudden light exposure, grateful when Lenox finally pulls away.</p><p>"You've been pretty badly bruised, Mr. Malik" he says, carefully unwinding the bandage wrapped around my head. “Concussion, two broken ribs, a ruptured spleen, and a whole lot of minor cuts. You were unconscious when you got here. You've been really lucky, Mr. Malik.”</p><p>           I can barely focus on the doctor's words as he places the stethoscope to my chest, auscultate me. I feel terrible; the mere mention of broken ribs makes me feel pain and wonder how this could even have happened. I close my eyes, letting Dr. Lenox go about his work.</p><p>Images from that night are starting to move through my head. I remember raindrops splashing against the windshield at such a speed that the wipers couldn't keep up with their pick up. I remember the road - dimly lit by car headlights and street lamps. I remember how the road was glowing and the speedometer showed way too much speed but I didn't pay attention to it then. I just let Harry run straight ahead.</p><p>           I remember a sudden, rapid heartbeat - so hard I heard blood pumping in my ears - when Harry suddenly lost control of the car. I'm not sure if I was screaming; maybe I just imagined it. My body sprang forward as the car swung off the road, smashing through the railing, and rolled down, stopping against a tree.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Malik?”</p><p>           I open my eyes to look at the doctor who is bending over my bare legs, frowning. Niall bites his lip as Ashton looks up, clearly worried.</p><p>“Can you feel it?” He asks, touching the tip of the pen to his big finger.</p><p>           I blink. No, I don't feel it at all. I shake my head slowly, feeling sick to my stomach. The doctor sighs, rubbing his forehead with his hand.</p><p> "Tell me when you feel something," he orders as he runs a pen over all the toes of his right and left feet, and runs it over the sole and heel. “Nothing? Please move your fingers.”</p><p>I’m trying, I am really trying. I even hover on my elbows, ignoring the pain in my chest just to look at my feet. And as much as I try, my fingers don't move even an inch.</p><p>“I ... You seem to have lost the use of your legs.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you want to, come say hi on my <a href="https://fanfiction-by-vanilla.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I lie on the bed staring blankly at the white painted ceiling.</p><p><em>           Wet road.Rain splashing against the car's windows and hood. Spotlights on the road. The green of the passing trees. A jerk of the car. Screeching tires. Scream. Was it or was it not there? Then darkness. I did not dare to raise my eyelids. There was only darkness and the sound of raindrops and a rattling engine. </em>“Don't move, Zayn. You can not. They'll come for you in a moment.” <em>The sound of a car passing by. Howling sirens. The sound of a sheet metal being cut. Excruciating pain. Pain so excruciating that it was unbearable. Darkness…</em></p><p>I flap my eyes open, breathing deeply despite the pain in my chest. I don't even realize when I closed my eyes, thinking back to that night. I bite my lip, trying to chase away the tears that are treacherously filling my eyes.</p><p>           I turn my head at the soft scuffling noise and see Niall sitting in the chair as usual, next to the bed; he's wearing a white t-shirt that I recognize that I own and some dark pants. He rests his chin on his chest and gently snorts; his outstretched hand lies on the mattress of the bed, a few centimetres from my hand.</p><p>I sigh heavily, annoyed at my friend's presence. For the past two days, he hasn't left me alone, he has been sitting by my bed all the time, looking at me with those blue eyes full of concern and pity. I didn't want pity. I wanted him to go out, go to Harry, Louis, Liam, anyone. I wanted to be alone with my problems.</p><p>           But Niall didn't care; he sat there, sometimes wanting to say something but paused every time I gave him a sharp look. So we were both silent. He was looking at me and I pretended not to see it.</p><p>I glance down at my feet, trying to move my fingers. I imagine my fingers slowly bending and straightening but it doesn't help. They don't even twitch. I let helpless tears run down my face. I hate my stupid legs so much at this point.</p><p>           I wipe my tears when Niall moves restlessly and moments later his eyelids flutter and rise, his blue eyes, still a bit sleepy, looking around in confusion until he fixes his gaze on me. I'm sure he can see the traces of my tears.</p><p>"Oh, Zaynie ..." he whispers, leaning towards the bed and extending the hand I immediately pushed away.</p><p> "Leave it, Niall," I snarl, turning my face away from him.</p><p>“Zayn, you can't...”</p><p>“LEAVE ME, NIALL, OKAY ?!” I shout, clenching my hands into fists. “Get the fuck off me! Leave me alone!”</p><p> “Zayn...”</p><p>“I HATE YOU! DAMN, I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! Leave me…!”</p><p>           I can't help the breaking of my voice or the fact that the tears are starting to run down my face. It just happens and I am powerless. I can't even turn to the side, so all I have to do is press my face against the pillow, not wanting Niall to see my tears.</p><p>I choke and sob, spasms shake my body as I sob like an idiot, hitting the bed angrily. Niall doesn't come out though; I can't hear his footsteps or the door closing. Instead, I feel his tiny hands soothingly slide down my back and his soft whisper.</p><p>           It only drives me even more crazy because I don't need his sympathy and pity. I don't need someone to comfort me and stroke my back, promising me everything will be okay. I know it won't be like that. Can not be.</p><p>xxx</p><p>Ashton Lennox comes to see me several times a day. He auscultate  me, advises me to move as little as possible for the sake of broken ribs, orders the nurses to change the bandages which are soon removed,and a few hours earlier he came to inform me that I will be discharged from the hospital soon.</p><p>           Perhaps I should be happy; I'm fed up with hospital food, a serious atmosphere, the stench of chemicals, and Niall sitting with me nearly twenty-four hours a day. So yes, I should be happy, but I can't. Because when I look down, running it along my body, pausing on my legs lying limp on the bed, I can't even smile.</p><p>"Zayn ..." Niall's voice is careful and for a brief moment I hate myself for making him this way. “The boys asked...”</p><p>“No.” I'm interrupting him.</p><p>           Harry was only in the hospital for one day under surveillance while I was unconscious. Nothing serious happened to him, he only had a few scratches and a slight concussion. He was quickly discharged and now he, as well as Liam and Louis, demand every day to see me, which I refuse every time.</p><p>I don't want them to see me like this - broken, helpless, unable to walk. I have become a wreck of a man, I am well aware of it. I have become hopeless and worthless, and I hate it. The stubborn Niall, who refuses to accept the fact that I don't need him here, is enough for me.</p><p>“And your mom...”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>           My mother is also one of those people who want to see me. I'm sure she would come with the father and the girls, and no. I couldn't take it.</p><p> “Zayn…” Niall stops and sighs heavily, knowing it’s a lost cause.</p><p>There is silence for a moment. Niall licks his lips nervously, staring at me as I lie there staring blankly at the ceiling.</p><p> "The boys had a few interviews" he finally says quietly, drawing my attention to himself.</p><p>           I freeze, flexing my muscles but when I don't interrupt him, Niall continues.</p><p>“About the accident and in general ... The media is going crazy, the fans are very worried about it all.”</p><p> "You told them about the..." I want to ask if they told them that I would not walk anymore but my voice breaks and I cannot utter a word.</p><p>           Niall knows exactly what I mean, though; he reaches out and grabs my hand, reassuringly running his thumb over it.</p><p>"No" he says in a soft voice. “They didn't say anything about it.”</p><p>           I nod my head, looking away. I pull my hand from his, wanting to get rid of this unpleasant feeling growing in my chest. Self disgust. I am terrified of the vision of myself in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. And although I may hate this helplessness and pity on the part of everyone, and I am fed up with Niall's gaze who sits by my side every day, almost without leaving, though I shouted angrily many times how much I hate him and how much I want him to go away - I know that I can't do it by myself.</p><p> “Do you know why? Because the doctor said that with proper rehabilitation, you have a chance to get better Zayn. And I will do anything to help you.”</p><p>xxx</p><p>“Mr. Malik?”</p><p>           I look up as I watch the woman slide into my room. Niall is sitting by my bed as usual; he tilts his head and looks curiously at a red-haired woman in her thirties, in a blue apron, with an ID tag on her chest.</p><p> "I'm Elizabeth, I do rehabilitation" she says loudly, in a confident tone that surprises me.</p><p>During those few days, no one used that tone in front of me. Well, maybe Niall sometimes, but that was rare. I like this; Elizabeth doesn't look at me with pity, doesn't speak with concern. I have the impression that she is just doing her job and I am kind of grateful to her for that. Her green eyes stare at me for a moment as if she's waiting for some answer from me, so I nod briefly.</p><p>“After you leave the hospital, I will take care of your rehabilitation” she announces.</p><p>I am able to nod my head again, although it scares me a bit. I have always found rehabilitation to be painful and unbearably long, dragging on endlessly and without any effects.</p><p> “I'm sure you will finally get to your feet with proper exercise.”</p><p>“How long will it take?” I say in a hoarse voice. “A month, two?”</p><p>           Her eyes twinkle and her lips curve into a wry smile.</p><p>“Well, if you can walk next year, it will be a great success.”</p><p>           I can feel the ground collapse beneath me. Quickly, violently, without any warning. Just. Suddenly and irrevocably. I feel like crying and screaming.</p><p>“How's that?” I cry, upset.</p><p>           My throat painfully tightens and my eyes sting, announcing tears.</p><p>“You should be glad that you are alive, Mr. Malik.”</p><p>           She says it and turns away, leaving me screaming in frustration, Niall by my side who gently caresses my back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you want to, come say hi on my <a href="https://fanfiction-by-vanilla.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Part III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Niall is bustling around in my hospital room, stuffing all the stuff into my bag. He did it a bit carelessly, in the typical niall way he used to pack when we went on tour. His movements are vigorous and a bit clumsy as he gives me a hesitant smile from time to time. While he stuffs my laptop - which I haven't used anyway - and a few other things, I sit on the bed with my back against the proceedings and watch him, hating the fact that I can't do it all myself.</p><p>I have been in a bad mood since early morning and all because I had to rely on a nurse to dress. I coped with the T-shirt myself, but for a long time I struggled to put on boxers, socks and pants until Claire came and offered to help. I hate her. Though I would have felt a lot worse if Niall had to do it all.</p><p>           I hate my helplessness so much. I hate the fact that I will have to rely on someone from now on; and I don't want anyone to get stuck with me, hopeless Zayn Malik on a wheelchair.</p><p>I want to walk. I've never wanted anything so much in my life as to get back on my feet and just keep going, keep going no matter where.</p><p>           I exhale through my nose, squeezing my eyes shut, separating myself from everything that surrounds me. There are so many things, so many people that I hate.</p><p>           I hate Claire and the other nurses because they help me with everything and smile in that comforting way.</p><p>           I hate doctors when they come in and do tests and then go away with that fucking compassionate look of them.</p><p>I hate the guys for the fact that they come here every day, want to see me, and even though I send them away every time, they come back here again.</p><p>           I hate my family. Mom and dad who impose themselves so much and girls who don't understand that I'll never get up again. That from now on, a wheelchair will also have to appear in their drawings.</p><p>           I hate Niall. I hate him so damn much for being here. That he sits next to me every day, that he is with me. I hate that he looks at me like that and smiles to cheer me up. I hate that he doesn't hate me. He should hate me for how many times I shouted and beat him in my helplessness and told him to get out.</p><p>           I hate myself the most.</p><p>“Zayn?”</p><p>           I look at Niall, who is standing by my bed, looking at me expectantly. In front of him is a hospital wheelchair, at the sight of which I swallow and squeeze my eyes shut.</p><p>           I can feel the mattress buckle as Niall sits down at the foot of the bed. He waits patiently until I finally open my eyes, and although I would never admit it, I am grateful to him for it.</p><p> "When you're ready, just say it," he says.</p><p> </p><p>I nod, pressing my lips into a thin line. His gentle voice irritates me terribly, but he has always been like that. He's always concerned for me and cared for me, and that's fucking annoying, especially now that most of my hospital stay I was yelling at him, telling him to go away, taking him out how much I hate him and how I wish he would just leave me alone. .</p><p>           My thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on the door.</p><p>We both turn our heads as Perrie enters through the ajar hospital door. All the air in my lungs escapes quickly, like a torn tire. The girl stops shortly after crossing the threshold; she's wearing loose patterned pants and a skimpy white blouse. Her blue eyes widen as she looks at me sitting helplessly on the bed, Niall by my side, her red lipstick lips unknowingly opening into a shapely "o".</p><p>           My mouth is completely dry, my tongue has become too big and heavy to move, and I have no saliva to swallow. I didn't think Perrie would visit me in the hospital. I never thought I'd see her again. To be honest, I rarely thought about her during this time. I preferred to focus on my anger and hatred of the world.</p><p>Niall moves awkwardly and gets out of bed, hesitantly placing a hand on my shoulder. He gives me a concerned look and nods at the door, signaling that he will wait in the hallway. I want to keep him. Grab a hand or whatever, but I'm too stunned to do anything. So I just sit and look at his back as he leaves, closing the door behind him.</p><p>           I don't want to be alone with Perrie. I have no idea what to say to her. So I keep staring at the door, where Niall just left for a moment longer, and I'm aware that the girl is still standing in the same place where she was standing, staring at me.</p><p>Slowly, I look down and see my fingers tighten on my senseless lap, trembling slightly. I cannot look at her, cannot find that much courage. I am silent. She is also silent.</p><p>           Finally, she slowly approaches and sits down uncertainly on the bed. I am painfully aware that she is sitting far away from me, leaving as much space as possible between us. Even so, I still don't look up, but I can see her tiny little hands sliding over the crumpled white sheets, the tips of her cold fingers slowly and uncertainly rubbing my hand. Only then do I look up to see Perrie's not looking at me.</p><p>Her blue irises are fixed on the black wheelchair in front of me. It's just a wheelcahir but at this point it looks so mocking I want to throw it out the door. Her eyesight is terrified and I can see that she is trying to sort it all out, but she can't, can't cope with it.</p><p> "I'm sorry I wasn't there," she says quietly.</p><p>           Her voice is trembling and weak, it makes me want to hug her but I can't. I don't answer and she goes on.</p><p>“You know that I was on tour ... I couldn't ... I ...”</p><p>               She can't find the words but she doesn't have to because that's okay ‘cause I get it. In fact, I'm glad she wasn't with me, even though I fucking needed her. I would not like her to look at me as she does now: with horror and pity. I would hate her so soon ...</p><p> "I didn't know you ..." She can't finish again, just waving awkwardly at the wheelchair.</p><p>“That I'm not walking?” I say for her in a rough voice.</p><p>I can see her eyes widen as if she wasn't expecting this from me. As if she thought I'd tell her it was just a joke ... Or that I could handle it, as always, that it would take a while to get to my feet. But I am not saying this because I do not believe it. I know I will never walk again, I have no illusions and I strip her off it too. Hope vanished from my life when the car wrapped itself around the tree.</p><p>           Perrie is pale. Her large eyes tear up and her lips tremble in an unpleasant way, announcing crying. My hands are clenched into fists because I'm not ready to deal with it yet.</p><p> "Zayn, I don't know if ..." Her voice cracks</p><p>I know what she wants to say. I am aware of this. Somewhere subconsciously I was expecting it but now that it's really happening, it just hurts. Really, it so fucking hurts. I close my eyes, breathing deeply but the pain doesn't go away, it just spreads all over my body so quickly and so much that I feel like I can feel it in my legs as well, which is stupid because it's impossible.</p><p> "Say it," I whisper.</p><p>           Tears begin to run down her face and her lips tighten in a thin line. She shakes her head, almost begging me not to tell her to do this but I need her to. I want to hear it, I need to hear it.</p><p> “Say it!”</p><p>           Perrie is sobbing, choking on tears.</p><p> "I can't live with you," she says indistinctly, in a tearful voice, then jumps up and runs out.</p><p>I look after her and the pain tears me apart. I want to cry but I can't, I can't, I can't. Even that has been taken from me. Even this God skimped me. <em>I can't live with you</em>. Her voice is ringing in my head, echoing.</p><p>           Niall enters the room. He looks confused as he walks over to the bed and sits hesitantly on its edge. I immediately notice that he is sitting much closer to me than Perrie was sitting.</p><p>“Are you okay, Zayn?” he asks.</p><p>           I want to laugh because no, nothing is right. Nothing the hell's right! Everything fucks and falls apart, leaving behind debris that can't be rebuilt. I am now just a wreck of a man, devoid of all hopes and dreams. I am nobody. I'm alone.</p><p>“Yes, Niall. Everything is fine...”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you want to, come say hi on my <a href="https://fanfiction-by-vanilla.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you want to, come say hi on my <a href="https://fanfiction-by-vanilla.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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